


Guard Duty

by Felle



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, I haven't read the comics and I don't intend to make this comply with them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felle/pseuds/Felle
Summary: Being the head of Princess Azula’s guard was just about the most boring job that the Fire Lord could have given Sokka—or the jobhadbeen boring, until the princess decided that she needed a food taster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonwatcher13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwatcher13/gifts).



Almost nothing Sokka had done in the Fire Nation had been boring. Infiltrating the islands, leading the invasion of the capital, helping topple a genocidal madman, the coronation and celebrations that had followed—war was awful, but it wasn’t boring.

Guard duty was boring.

He walked around the little garden house on the palace grounds, thumbing at the pommel of his sword the whole way. By his count, it was another quarter-hour before the patrol route would bring the section’s Kyoshi Warriors back around so he had _someone_ to talk to. It was very lonely, having the Fire Lord’s unconditional trust. Being the only one he trusted to manage his sister’s security since she’d been moved out of that sanitarium. Sokka had agreed with that choice, personally…until Zuko placed him in charge of her. Not that he wasn’t up to the task, or had slouched in his new duties, but most of the time he was so out of his skull with boredom that he almost wished something _would_ happen just to break the monotony. Fortunately, or unfortunately for his diminished sense of excitement, anyone with something against the princess had long since been removed from any position to do anything about it.

And then the bell over her door rang.

Sokka’s brow furrowed. She’d never used that bell, not in the six months since he’d installed it. There had been no need, she was only supposed to use it if she was in…danger…

The door flew open and struck the wall behind it as he burst in, sword halfway out of its sheath. Sokka scanned the single large room that constituted most of the apartments, fingers itching to finish drawing his sword and do something with it. Only there wasn’t anything to use it on. The small sitting area was empty with the cushions all perfectly arranged, the kitchen was disused, and the princess sat at her dining table, slender finger still on one of the buttons that controlled the bell outside. She was quite alone, with her usual haughty, impatient look that was falling into a frown.

“Is _that_ how long it takes you to respond?” she asked as she withdrew her finger. “What exactly is the point of even having it, then?”

The six years since the war had seen her grow a bit taller, within half a head of him, but otherwise she looked much the same as she had before. Sharp features, not a hair out of place, and an expression that made it all too obvious she considered anyone on the other side of it a troublesome bug. The kimono she’d chosen for the day, all reds and golds like so many of the other ones, had one sleeve that had fallen away, exposing the bare arm and hand she was using to rub her temple.

Sokka slipped his sword back into its sheath and let out a long, tense breath. His chest was still tingling with nerves as he straightened up and tried to get his body under control. “The point is for emergencies, Azula. You know, the thing you’re not having right now?”

“Oh but I am. I’ve had no one to taste my dinner for poison and it’s getting cold.”

He blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

Azula looked pointedly down at her tray of food, then extended one leg underneath the table to push out the cushion across from her. “It’s your job to keep me safe, isn’t it?”

“The kitchen staff is all clear, it’s the same people who’ve been cooking for you this whole time.”

“Well—” Azula pushed the tray across the table and folded her arms— “I’m not eating any more food that hasn’t been tasted first, so I suppose you can explain to my brother why I’ve passed out from malnutrition in a few days—”

“All right, all right! It’s all fine anyway,” Sokka muttered, and went over to the kitchen to grab a pair of chopsticks. He knelt down, plucked a bit of rice drizzled with lemon sauce, and popped it into his mouth. “See? Perfectly safe. Wait, this is pretty good. How come we don’t get this sauce in the barracks?”

“Ugh, do you always talk with your mouth full like that? There’s still the fish and all the vegetables. And the tea.”

_Oh, come on,_ Sokka wanted to say, but he was too busy chewing. Even her rice seemed to taste better than what they got or the meals he occasionally bought in the city. It wasn’t as if there was any real risk of anything being poisoned, and he was still two hours off from dinner. His only reservation was actually giving Azula what she wanted, giving her that in. The physicians might have said she was fine, but there was no forgetting that she was probably the best liar in the world. Still, six years without incident had to say something…and he was hungry. He sat down, though not without the proper amount of reluctance to show that he wasn’t simply jumping at her command.

Sokka cut away a thin section of the fish, but paused before eating it. “What’s the delay?” Azula asked.

“Tiger haddock is a cold water fish, it would’ve come in from one of the Water Tribes.”

The princess shrugged. “The southern one. I asked for something different.”

He ate it carefully, methodically, to keep from making it obvious how much he was enjoying it. Fire Nation fish was fine, but Water Tribe fish—every flavor was sharp and acutely nostalgic. But Azula didn’t need to know that. “It tastes fine. Familiar. Very not poison-like.”

“I’ll see how you feel in a few minutes,” Azula said, and deigned to point out the next thing she wanted tested.

Sokka went through each piece of her dinner in turn. The vegetables, the soup, a second piece of fish, and even her tea. “It’s not as good as your uncle’s,” he said as he set down the extra cup he’d poured a bit into, “but it’s not poisoned. Is that everything?”

Azula folded her arms as Sokka pushed her tray back and stood up. “I suppose it’ll have to do, I don’t want you eating my entire dinner. Have someone let me know if you collapse and start writhing in pain.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to hear it, I’ll be outside for another two hours,” he said. Sokka turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. “Could I get another bite of that fish?”

She rolled her eyes, but still pushed the plate over. Sokka snatched it up to assuage his growling stomach. “Thanks, princess. Azula.”

The little sound of acknowledgment she made was about as much of a response as he was going to get, and he wasn’t of a mind to leave his post unattended any longer than he had to. Sokka did linger at the door for a breath until Azula began eating her dinner, then slipped back outside. The patrol of Kyoshi Warriors—was that still the proper name if they were operating away from their island, Sokka wondered—had finally come by and were waiting outside until he returned. “Everything all right?” Xia asked.

“Yeah, it was just…it’s nothing, everything’s fine.” Sokka took a step from the door, then looked over his shoulder at the garden house. “Can I get a list of everyone between the food deliveries into the palace and here? Whoever handles it?”

“Everyone? That’s a lot of people, but I’ll have it on your desk by tonight. Any reason?”

“Just curious,” Sokka said as he tapped his first two fingers against his sword pommel. Both of them nodded and headed off to finish their route. He wasn’t hurting for bedtime reading, but the thought was going to trouble him unless he could be sure. Even with a dozen people reporting to him, the princess was ultimately his responsibility. If there was the slightest chance that there was something to Azula’s paranoia and this wasn’t a manipulation game of hers, he needed to be on top of it. And he’d rather know if there was anything in the food he’d eaten, too.

⁂

It was almost fun, making a game out of Azula’s demands. Every day, almost exactly six minutes after her dinner was delivered, the little bell over the princess’s door rang and she would insist that he taste her food for poison. Sometimes he would make her wait, sometimes he slipped in through the back with his master key, and once he opened the door with her finger still a hair’s breadth from the bell button. She hadn’t been as amused at that as him.

When the bell rang that day, Sokka waited until a count of three before opening the door and stepping inside. Azula was in the sitting area for a change, reading an old poetry book and rolling her finger against a button he hadn’t seen her use before. She set her book aside and stood up. “Your response time is improving. I wouldn’t call it good, but it’s improving.”

“It’s easy when the emergencies are routine,” Sokka said with a humble shrug. He looked at her table, but it wasn’t her usual meal. It didn’t look like much of a meal at all, in fact. There were makings of one, certainly. “Your dinner seems kind of…deconstructed tonight.”

“Because it hasn’t been made yet. I wasn’t going to trust my meals to some nameless, faceless kitchen staff.”

“They have names and faces,” Sokka said. He stepped over to the table and picked up a bag of loose, uncooked rice. “I’ve looked through all of them, and I cleared all of them.”

She scoffed. “Not to my satisfaction.”

“And what would satisfy you, Azula?”

He knew he had misspoken when her eyebrow quirked, but trying to backpedal would only dig that hole deeper. Instead Sokka waited for her to close the distance between them. The blue kimono was a marked change, not something he expected to see in the Fire Nation capital. It fit well, at least. Very well…he shook his head clear. Azula nodded toward the tray. “You said my dinner was deconstructed. Construct it.”

“You want me to cook for you?”

Azula nodded, once.

“You won’t trust the kitchen staff, but you’ll trust me? Maybe there _is_ something in your food…”

Her finger poked into the middle of his chest. “I don’t trust you, I trust your vested interest in keeping me alive,” Azula said, and glanced down at the food. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint my brother, would you?”

Sokka sighed and picked up the tray. He was reasonably certain that the infrastructure support Zuko was providing the Southern Water Tribe wouldn’t be rescinded if he declined to play cook for her, but there wasn’t any reason to test the issue. “You really enjoy backing people into a corner, don’t you?”

The smile she gave him almost seemed genuine, reaching up to the corners of her eyes. “I’m hungry, so whenever you’d like to get started. And since you’ll still be tasting it, I’d appreciate you being light on the poison. Decent guards are difficult to come by.”

He almost wanted to be proud of his upgrade to _decent_ , but he kept his pride to himself and went about seeing what he had to work with. Packets of rice, raw vegetables, soup stock, tea leaves, raw chicken, and several dehydrated sauces. He’d made more with less. “Okay, let’s see how good this kitchen is.”

“Do you need the stove lit?”

Unlike Azula’s smile, his chuckle wasn’t nearly as convincing. “Nice try. No bending means no bending, under any circumstances. I can figure this thing out,” Sokka said, and worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Oh, here we go.”

He reached over to the wall and opened the gas valves for two of the burners, then took a striker to light them. “Look at that, I’m practically a bender.”

Rather than disabuse him of the notion, Azula went back to the sitting area and returned to her book. Sokka wasn’t nearly as quiet as he expected she would have liked, rummaging through her cabinets for spices and seasonings that looked like they hadn’t ever been touched, but she made no complaints. He wasn’t inclined to complain either, the food smelled delicious and what small bits he sampled almost melted in his mouth. When he turned back to her, Azula matched his gaze for an instant before forcing it downward at her book. “There’s a lot here, you know. Enough for two good meals.”

“I don’t have anywhere to store it, you may as well make it all,” Azula said as she pretended to read. “It smells decent, at least. Somehow I thought you would’ve considered cooking a pointlessly feminine undertaking.”

Sokka inclined one of the pans to move some of the vegetables around. “Yeah, I used to when I was younger. Wasn’t until I left home that I really had to rethink all those things I believed. And I found out that women love a guy who can cook.”

“Yes, we do.”

He glanced over his shoulder again, but Azula seemed very focused on her book. She said nothing more, and he returned to managing everything on the stove. Every now and then, though, Sokka couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Well. As long as she didn’t spend her time coming up with insults or backhanded compliments, she could look if she liked.

“Okay, everything’s done. Come and get it while it’s hot.”

“Finally.” Azula set her book aside and stepped over some cushions to get to the table as Sokka set the plates down. “You’re even slower than the kitchens.”

“Yeah, it takes one person longer to prepare a whole meal than an entire staff trained to do it, imagine that. The extra’s here on this plate if you want more—”

“Ah, ah.” Azula locked eyes with him and pointed to the cushion on the opposite side of the table. For once, Sokka didn’t sigh or complain about her paranoia. He was hungry, and had cooked some pretty good food, if he did say so himself. Azula frowned and switched their plates while he sat down, then switched them back, before moving different pieces of food between them so that it was difficult to tell what had initially been served to her. “There. You try it first.”

“What is this morbid fascination you have with poison?” Sokka asked. “I made it right in front of you!”

“I do not have a _morbid fascination_ with poison, I have a healthy respect for it,” Azula shot back. She pushed some rice around on her plate with the ends of her chopsticks. “I—you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me, I can understand quite a bit.”

Her gaze lowered to her plate, and the scowl she had worked her face into melted away. “That was how the physicians would slip drugs to the patients at the sanitarium,” Azula said quietly, muttering each word. “They would grind it into powder and mix everything into the food. And afterwards all you could do was just…sit there and watch while they poked and prodded you. There wasn’t any way to speak or fight back, if you were lucky one of them would wipe your mouth when you started to drool. It is _not_ an indignity I will repeat, do you understand?”

Azula looked up at him then, her sharp breaths making some of the lamps nearby flare brightly until Sokka put his hands out in conciliation. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Look, I’ll try everything first, all right?”

Once he had sampled all the offerings, Azula finally began to eat. “Hmm. It’s not bad.”

“Now there’s some high praise.”

She huffed out something, and it took Sokka a moment to realize that she had laughed. Not a bad sound, he thought. “So, is this going to be a nightly thing? Me cooking for you?”

“Do you have something better to do?”

Sokka shrugged and held a bit of sticky rice between his chopsticks. “I only ask because I saw some interesting ingredients the last time I was in town. You must get bored of the same five meals over and over.”

“Then yes. And…thank you. I realize your duties don’t extend this far.”

He blinked in disbelief a few times as it sunk in that the princess had actually shown him some shred of gratitude for something. What a strange day it had been. “You’re welcome.”

⁂

Flying in the face of all of Sokka’s expectations, Azula seemed to enjoy his cooking…as long as he stuck to Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom cuisine. She considered any vegetarian Air Nomad meals to be lacking a proper main course—an opinion he shared, if privately—and she hadn’t liked any of the Water Tribe dishes he’d made for her. There weren’t very many options based on what he could buy at Fire Nation markets, but his latest idea was sure to work.

Azula no longer bothered ringing the bell after most of her raw ingredients were delivered each day, and Sokka had largely figured out her timing. She liked to look over all the food packages to make sure nothing had been tampered with, and only after that would she let him start opening things. He found that waiting five minutes worked well.

When he went inside that day, though, the packets hadn’t been touched, and the princess had remained on the other side of the main room, running through a form with a wooden training dummy. Each of her sharp exhalations cut through the air, along with the sounds of her hands and feet striking the wood. She moved almost like water through the routine, though she would surely take that as a slight. Instead Sokka said nothing and waited for her to acknowledge him, watching all the while. It was an intense form, drawing up plenty of sweat across her skin that ran down in beads along her neck and exposed midriff. Even from across the room the heat coming off of her was obvious, sending warmth lacing into his body before it settled at his collar, around his neck. Yes, that was the most reasonable explanation, he told himself.

“Oh, you’re here,” Azula said once she had finished her routine, as if she hadn’t figured out his timing just as he had figured out hers. She didn’t turn away or throw something on, but rather turned toward him so that he had an unobstructed view of the tone in her arms and stomach. One eyebrow arched slowly upward, and Sokka took that as his cue to do something other than stare.

“Yeah, I—yeah,” he tried to say. Azula fastened one hand to her hip. “I just don’t usually see you training. Like, ever.”

She shrugged and tapped at the training dummy. “I like to be able to handle myself, bending or no bending. In case of, say, eclipses.”

“I remember. Oh, then you’ll need the protein in this!” Sokka exclaimed, and rummaged through his bag to produce a small package he’d managed to get from a Water Tribe crew in port from the south.

Azula stepped around her sitting area, confusion growing on her lips. “What is it, exactly?”

“In about twenty minutes it’ll be fried elephant seal,” he said. The corner of her mouth was already turning down, but he had anticipated that. “It has almost no fat, it’s not chewy if you cook it long enough, and with the right amount of salt and garlic it tastes just like pig chicken.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” Azula said. She didn’t look convinced, but still ultimately nodded her assent. Sokka stiffened up when she was at arm’s length, casting a cool gaze that started at his offered food and trailed up his bare arm to his shoulder. “But you really need to start spacing out these forays into Water Tribe food.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make some rice, too.”

Sokka busied himself with preparing the stove before getting things he needed, the cookware and some oil, but was surprised when Azula plucked it all from the cabinets around the kitchen and placed it on the counter beside him. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You’ll finish faster this way.”

A spark ran up his spine at her odd phrasing, at the insinuation in her low rasp. It was a taunt Sokka wasn’t sure he wanted to rise to, but the thought of letting her keep the upper hand didn’t seem like an option. He started to turn toward her, but then settled for simply looking her way. “You don’t want to finish too quickly. Ruins the anticipation.”

Azula turned her interest to the other side of the room and slipped out of sight at that, but not before Sokka caught a glimpse of a tiny grin. He decided to let it go and focus on getting the oil up to temperature. The other guards and the servants who delivered things were all women, he was very likely the only man she saw with any regularity, and from the outside their arrangement could almost look…domestic. There was no need to read into it.

Once the oil was bubbling and Sokka had laid out the first strips of meat to fry, Azula cleared her throat to get his attention again. She was above simply addressing him, it seemed. “Yes, princess?”

“I almost feel bad, taking you away from your girlfriend every night,” Azula said from somewhere behind him. “Is she out there? They all look so similar with that makeup, it’s a chore telling them all apart.”

His shoulders slumped. “No, Suki’s not out there. And she’s not my girlfriend anymore, either.”

“Do tell.”

_Ah_ , Sokka thought. Here was the Azula he remembered. The one that poked and pricked at anything she could until she found the right button to push to put someone else off-balance. Well. She could only do that if he let her. “There’s not much to tell. She wanted to go back to Kyoshi Island, I thought I could do more good here, and neither of us wanted to do the long-distance thing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

He did his best to contain a humorless laugh. “Are you? Really?”

“No,” Azula whispered from directly behind him, her voice and warm breath rolling across his ear. “Not really.”

Sokka started and looked back over his shoulder, to where the princess had crept up on him. Half-lidded amber eyes looked back at him, her head rested at an inquisitive tilt, and from what he could see it was only extreme balance keeping her from leaning against him. The merest hint of her tongue flitted between her lips, so very close as they parted slightly, so very capable of ensnaring his own—

A bubble of oil popped under the heat while his attention was turned elsewhere and splashed across Sokka’s collar and the bare base of his throat. Sokka winced as the deep, hot sear sank into his skin. Azula backed away at the sudden change in his expression, confused until she saw the pain on his face. He batted at the clinging oil, but only succeeded in passing some of it onto his fingers and stinging them, too. Sokka rushed into the washroom without a word and slid the door shut behind him, then peeled off his shirt and scooped up some water from the washbasin.

That was stupid, he told himself. Extraordinarily stupid. He was her _guard_ , and he’d let her toy with him enough to cause injury. Burns, no less. There was something poetic in that. Sokka kept his singed hand submerged in the basin while the other splashed water onto his chest to try and soothe the sting coursing through his skin. It helped somewhat, though the water wasn’t very cold.

Azula slid the door open again, then stopped mid-step when she saw he had discarded his shirt. “Oh.”

“I just need a few minutes. Maybe the elephant seal wasn’t the best idea…”

She frowned, finished her step into the small washroom, and pressed a cold, wet bit of cloth to his chest. “That’s lukewarm, it’s been sitting in the basin since morning. This will work better.”

Sokka watched as she knelt down beside him and applied a light pressure to the burn. The pain began to lessen by slow degrees, and Azula kept the cloth there herself rather than move her hand away so he could hold it. “Just press some clean water to it every day, don’t bandage it up. And when it blisters—and it _will_ blister—don’t pick at it. You seem like the type to pick.”

“You know how to treat burns?” Sokka asked. Azula pursed her lips. “Right. Firebender. Dumb question.”

“My father wouldn’t allow healers anywhere near the training grounds when I was younger,” she said as her gaze slipped down to Sokka’s bare chest. “He said that the pain would discourage mistakes faster. So I had to learn how to take care of any injuries myself.”

“Sounds like a cheery guy.”

“You don’t have to be politic about it.”

Azula took his hand from the washbasin and pressed the cold cloth into his palm and fingers. The singe there wasn’t nearly as bad as below his throat, but the water was still cool and soothing on his skin. “Well, thanks, Azula.”

“You’re still my security, it won’t do to have you injured,” she said with a fresh, false haughtiness. Azula leaned in closer until her lips were beside his ear again and she had to grip his arm for balance. “Really, though…I couldn’t be _that_ sorry to hear you were unattached.”

Her words slipped through Sokka’s body and pooled at an embarrassingly low spot faster than he would have thought possible. Sokka mumbled something incoherent in response as Azula stood and stepped out of the washroom. No. He wasn’t going to entertain this thought any further, he couldn’t. He was working for her brother, and Azula herself was still a wildcard.

Still, no one could hold it against him if he enjoyed the thought.

⁂

“I don’t know.”

Zuko looked over the paper Sokka had delivered again. Having seen the massive formal receiving chamber at the center of the palace, Sokka much preferred the more sensibly sized office where the Fire Lord conducted most of his business, set at the end of a hall that housed several other government functionaries. “Getting some newspapers delivered, fine. But going out for shopping? What do you think?”

Sokka’s hand drifted down to the list of requests from the princess. “She’s been back at the palace for almost two years now without a problem. It’s better than letting her bounce off the walls and go stir-crazy, isn’t it? I’d want some contact with the outside world too if I couldn’t go past the gardens and had a curfew.”

“I guess so. I hated when I was stuck on my ship for weeks at a time.” Zuko sat at his desk and tapped his chin. “Still…”

“Look, I know your relationship with her is completely screwed up and probably won’t ever be, you know, normal, but I think this could help,” Sokka said. Zuko raised his eyebrow, and even Sokka was surprised at the earnestness in his own voice. He had to pull himself back a little. He was supposed to be her guard, personal feelings couldn’t figure into determining what was best for her safety. “Make it conditional on good behavior. If she starts acting like her old self, she goes back on lockdown. Obviously she wants this stuff, so why would she start acting up if she knows it can be taken away?”

Zuko huffed out a breath, and two of the candles nearby bloomed. “All right, I’ll have some papers delivered every morning, eventually she’ll run out of pre-War books to read. I’ll leave the rest in your hands, Sokka. If you say she can behave, I might see about doing something with the old training grounds so she can have a place to firebend. As far as going into the city…I’d want you to be the one to take her out.”

“Great! Thanks, Zuko!”

“Why are _you_ thanking me?”

“Oh, I, uh…Azula’s just in a better mood when she gets good news,” Sokka said. He groaned inwardly. She really did have him wrapped around her finger. “So I’m thanking you in advance on her behalf, I guess?”

Zuko nodded, then focused on him again. “Did you get burned on your chest there? Azula didn’t do that, did she?”

“No, no. That was some cooking oil.” Sokka had to resist the temptation to reach up and scratch at the spots where it itched. “It was worth it, though. She ended up liking the fried elephant seal.”

Sokka had mentioned weeks prior that he had been promoted to cook, but his grin seemed to give him away. “Right,” Zuko said. “So you two are friends now?”

“Well, we’re friendly.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Um…I don’t know. My shift’s about to start, I’ll go make sure everything’s quiet and lay out the rules for the things she asked for.” Zuko nodded, and Sokka turned on his heel to leave. _Were_ they friends? Did Azula even do the friendship thing? Mai and Ty Lee had followed her during the war out of fear, but could she be different in peacetime? A little doubt still chewed at him, but it was growing smaller by the day.

⁂

“I only want to make sure you understand the rules.”

Despite his insistence on going over them with her, Azula had done well with adhering to the rules that kept her new privileges in place over the past few months. She didn’t torch the newspapers when she was done reading them, and when they were in the city she hadn’t once tried to slip away from him. She had done so well that, true to his word, Zuko had upgraded the training grounds for her use—within certain restrictions, of course.

“We’ve been over this three times already,” Azula said, the exasperation plain in her voice. “You stay with me at all times, and no firebending outside the arena or it all gets taken away. What a generous ruler my brother is…”

They continued down the covered stairs to the sunken training grounds behind the palace until they came to the bottom. What had formerly been a large open area now hosted a large earthen rectangular structure, with walls as thick as Sokka was tall. Several rows of vents near the tops of the walls allowed for air flow, sloped slightly upward to keep heat from getting trapped inside. A pair of earthbender guards sat near the bottom of the stairs, caught up in their pai sho game until Sokka jabbed one heel into the ground. Both of them jumped up and began parting a section of the wall for them to pass through. After a moment, they had formed a narrow corridor into the arena. “You got the password, right?” one of them asked.

Sokka nodded as they walked by. He’d been given two, really, one to be let out without trouble and one if he had a fire dagger to his throat. But Azula didn’t need to know that part. She strolled beside him through the opening, brushing at his shoulder in the narrow space.

Once they were through, the wall closed up behind them without so much as a seam. For the moment, they were completely sealed in. The ceiling twenty feet above them was reinforced with metal bars to compensate for its thinness and had enough openings to provide light, and Azula looked up at it as she walked into the space.

“So, this is it? I can firebend as much as I want in here? Any forms I want? Lightningbending?”

“As long as you don’t start trying to destroy the place,” Sokka said. “Or me.”

“It’s silly to break things that belong to you.”

She didn’t elaborate that statement, and Sokka felt a not-uncomfortable twinge in his stomach as he leaned against the wall. Embers sparked around Azula’s hands while she walked forward, out to the middle of the arena, and then burst into bright blue flames that threw warmth all the way back to him. Sokka had to squint when the fire in her hands briefly grew brighter than the sun high over their heads. After not being able to bend for years, seeing her unleash it all at once was more than a little aweing. Suddenly Sokka was glad he hadn’t been anywhere near her on the day of the comet.

Little beads of sweat were rolling down his neck by the time Azula’s fire shrank down to something usable and she began her forms. Most of his exposure to firebending had been on the receiving end, when avoiding it was more of a priority than studying it, but with a chance to simply observe Sokka couldn’t help noticing the…gracefulness of it. Every strike and kick flowed into the next, her hands and feet propelled even faster by short bursts of fire. It could have been a dance with the way she was moving around the space, not missing a step for all the time she hadn’t been able to practice.

Azula whirled right into the air, flipping over herself and forming a bright blue ring with her feet that hung in empty space for a moment even after she landed. Smoke plumed up where it had burst, drifting up through the holes in the ceiling as she began another routine. The air around her crackled with energy while she drew her hands in toward her stomach, and Sokka dug one heel into the ground so he could sidestep quickly. Just in case.

The bolt arced wildly through the air, a thin and lethal stream of blue so brilliant it was nearly white, before it struck the corner opposite Sokka. All the walls shuddered the tiniest bit, and some of the dust left on the ceiling after earthbenders had constructed the space flitted down as a faint cloud. “Feel better?” Sokka asked as Azula made her way back over to him.

“You have no idea.” She rolled her shoulders and looked back over the arena. “No one was willing to spar.”

It could have been a question, had they both not already known the answer. Sokka shook his head. “I asked around, but…no. Sorry.”

“Why am I less than surprised,” she muttered. “Fine. I have other forms to go through, anyway.”

As much as he wanted to stay silent and keep up his guard duty, Sokka didn’t like seeing her upset. It would have been one thing if she’d raged about it, called everyone on the palace grounds cowardly peasants and complained loudly all the way through her forms, but she didn’t. Azula simply accepted that she wasn’t getting what she wanted and walked back out to start practicing her footwork. Sokka sighed, pushed away the thought of how much trouble he was opening himself up to, and went over to the rack that held all the practice weapons. There was no shortage of each—wooden pieces weren’t designed to last in a firebender training ground—and he picked out an edgeless jian made from oak. Sokka unfastened the sheath with his real sword from his belt and left it aside before walking out to the middle of the space.

The princess was turned away from him at first, alternating between high and low kicks that sent fire blazing out into the empty air. Sokka waited for her to finish, tapping the flat of the practice sword against his thigh until the fire stopped. “Hey, Azula. I’ll spar with you.”

She lowered her leg and turned back to him, brow furrowed. “You’re not a bender.”

“No, I only have to keep up with them,” Sokka said. “There’s a reason I’m the head of your guard—because I’m _better_ at it than all the people who can throw around fire and rocks and water with their minds.”

Azula smirked at that and let her gaze make a circuit of him, from his head to his feet and back again. Even with the heat, Sokka had to suppress a shiver. “Your mouth is making some big promises, I hope your body can keep up with them. Aren’t you worried that I’ll put you in the ground and find a way out of this glorified cage?”

“Should I be?”

“Oh, look at that, he’s learning.” The princess shifted into a fighting stance, and embers flickered around her fists. “Feel free to yield if it gets too warm for you.”

“Just watch how hot you make those flames, I’m not fireproof,” Sokka said, sliding one foot back and bringing his sword up to eye level, the dull point aimed right at Azula’s heart.

“I told you, it’s silly to break things that belong to you.”

⁂

Azula’s first strike was a flurry of jabs, throwing enough fire in half a dozen directions to try and distract from the high, upward strike she followed it with. Sokka’s sword flew right into the line of flame, cutting it in two before it dissipated.

Of course, they had moved through this beat countless times over the past month. By now Sokka knew how Azula liked to open her fights, how she began their spars when she wanted to toy with him, and he knew how to deal with it. Azula brought her other hand up and slammed both down toward the floor of the arena, flames sweeping out from the impact like furious blue waves. His feet grew too warm too fast, but Sokka pressed forward and through the fire. The instinct to wince away from the heat was still there, but it no longer ruled his actions.

The dulled edge of his practice sword swung through the empty space Azula had occupied only a moment before. If he blinked at the wrong instant, she was gone. Sokka turned on his heel, in the direction he thought she broke toward, and caught another burst of flame in the middle of his forearm. He had no time to try and stamp it out before Azula was on him again, jumping into a kick as sparks burst around her foot. She caught him squarely in the chest and sent him flying. When Sokka did finally land, after an interminably long moment in the air, he hit the ground roughly and skidded far enough to feel it through his clothes. He sucked in a long breath and grasped around for his sword, though he couldn’t find it before Azula strolled up to him and firmly planted her still-warm boot on his chest. “Too slow,” she said, as arrogant as could be.

Any retorts that came to mind failed Sokka as he looked up at her. While his own sparring outfit was generously padded to prevent burns, Azula had nothing to cover her arms, shoulders or stomach. Thin, glistening lines of sweat ran down her skin, from the spots on her temples where her hair had matted down to the hard lines of her abdomen. Sokka locked eyes with her, acutely aware that she was applying just enough pressure to keep him from getting a full breath. He was burning up, but not from the pain, and not from the heat.

“Ready to yield yet?” she asked as a short line of flame burst from the back of one fist. “You usually last more than three rounds, I’m disappointed. Where’s your focus today?”

Even as she said it, Azula pushed her chest out the tiniest bit, enough that she could pretend she didn’t know what she was doing. Sokka didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He finally closed his hand around his sword’s hilt and swung the flat into the back of Azula’s leg. Her knee came down a hair’s breadth from his face, too close for comfort, but it was enough of an opening to roll out from under her. For once the princess had to scramble to keep up with him, pushing herself back to her feet with one hand.

“Don’t worry about me,” Sokka said, chancing a taunting twirl of his sword.

The jian came down toward Azula’s shoulder, only for the blade to get caught between her crossed forearms. She pushed the sword back toward him, until the opposite side was pressed to his chin and he could see the wood of the blade slowly blackening against her skin. “I never do.”

Both of them pushed in the same moment and stepped back to regroup. It had been a challenge at first, turning away from the instinct to keep his sword from getting burned, but enough spars—and enough defeats, though he would never admit that—had impressed that it was only a practice blade. There was no temper to keep from ruining, it would just burn. And when it inevitably did, Azula would stop and wait for him to get another.

Most of the time.

Even with the soreness running up and down his back, Sokka was able to keep pace better now that he had loosened up again after their last break. The restrained viciousness of their fight melted more into the artistry that Azula took on when she did her forms, pushing forward and falling back with her fire against him and his sword. They would move up and clash like storms, trading a blow or two before the energy of it forced them apart to catch their breaths. When she pressed, he gave up ground in exchange for reorienting them ever so slightly until the nearest wall was behind her. Once Azula was thoroughly turned around, Sokka went back on the offensive, moving his sword in wide arcs and jabbing thrusts that cost the princess her hard-won stances.

“You’ll never get anywhere waving that thing around like a madman,” she taunted through her own strikes. Without a firm root, though, the fires passed over the fabric of his clothes without catching. “I’d think a man would know that…”

With enough spars between them, the patterns were almost familiar, too much a dance to be called a proper fight. She knew his steps, he knew her tells and how she bolstered any apparent gap in her defense.

But he had figured out the one weak point in her style. She was aggressive and calculated, but Azula couldn’t resist an opening she thought he didn’t know about. Being too obvious would only make her see his trap for what it was, but if he was subtle enough about it, if he twitched his hand a few times before striking and relaxed his grip once her attention was there—

Azula’s whole body spun into a kick that connected at the base of his blade and knocked it free of his loosened grip. The sword clattered to the ground nearby, as he’d expected. Before she could get her balance back, Sokka grabbed Azula’s shoulder and spun her farther, until she was pressed into the wall he’d backed her against. In the instant before her shock wore off, Sokka grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. Her wrists almost burned his hand, but he kept Azula there even as she squirmed and managed to turn herself around.

“This feels familiar,” Sokka said, and Azula’s furious scowl turned slowly into something else. Something amused, something…hungry. The heat from her wrists seemed to course down through his body before settling and coiling below his stomach.

“Maybe this time we won’t bring up another girl and ruin the mood.”

Sokka’s breath faltered as Azula hooked one leg around his hips and pulled him closer. They were both still panting from exertion, pressed together and passing heat freely between them. He released his grip on her wrists, and she ran one hand into his hair while the other grabbed at his collar. “What’re you—”

“You’re not _that_ dense,” Azula said, and pulled him down.

If her hands were warm, then her lips were blazing. Some of the air crackled around them, and Sokka obligingly wrapped his arms around her so she could fasten her other leg around his waist. Azula shuddered once she was pressed between him and the wall, clawing at his clothes until some of the fabric split near his neck.

Sokka’s head was spinning too fast to think. He was her _guard_ , they shouldn’t have been sparring in the first place, and there was no way he could ever justify having Azula pinned up against a wall with her tongue in his mouth, with her hips rolling and sending a long jolt of pleasure spiking through his body—well. She wasn’t worrying about propriety, why should he? Sokka pushed his hips in counter to her rhythm, with nothing but flimsy and easily torn fabric keeping them apart, and Azula whimpered into his mouth.

When they finally broke apart, it was only for a desperate breath, and then they were on one another again. Azula bit at the front of his throat, sinking her teeth into the skin there and flitting out her tongue while Sokka backed them away from the wall, one hand trailing up along her bare back to the base of her top. They sank to the ground, and Azula pulled him forward until he was all but on top of her. She let his neck be after lavishing two more bruises on his skin and put her hands out of the way, working along with him to get her top over her head and out of their way.

He straightened up and couldn’t help staring once he’d started tossing her clothes aside, and Azula’s face reddened even as she tried to hold his gaze. “What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just—wow,” Sokka said, barely mumbling his compliment. Azula snaked two fingers under the bottom of his training shirt and tugged. That was clear enough, and Sokka pulled it free as quickly as he could. Once it was lying in a heap nearby, Azula took his hand and brought it along her side, up to the swell of one breast before she pulled him down again.

“You’re a terrible guard,” Azula whispered, and trapped his lower lip between her teeth. One of her hands wrapped around to his back, nails scraping at his skin and drawing up angry red lines in their wake.

“You don’t exactly make my job easy.”

Their hips moved and rolled together almost of their own accord, and it only took a few minutes for his lust to overpower everything else. He needed her then and there, needed her as certainly as he needed food or water and damn the consequences. Sokka’s hands shook as he eased himself down her body, biting playfully at her collarbone, her breasts, the solid lines of her stomach. Azula pushed her hips up so Sokka could pull her pants free, then grabbed his shoulder to tug him down.

The hardness of the ground under them seemed so pitifully unimportant as Sokka kissed his way down her stomach again, to the trimmed little strip of jet-black hair between her legs. Azula’s hand went from his shoulder to his head and urged him on, not that he needed the encouragement.

Sokka felt her whole body go stiff around him as he drew the tip of his tongue over her clit. The hand in his hair tightened appreciatively, pulling him back into place when he drifted away to nip at her thigh. He looked up at her with barely-focused eyes, taking in the sight of her body splayed out in front of him, her scent, her almost-sweet taste. Azula’s cheeks had only gotten redder, and from the look on her face she was fighting to keep her breathing even.

He couldn’t let her win that fight.

Azula bit back another whimper as he lashed his tongue in quick, random shapes, while his hands wrapped around and dug into her thighs. Her legs locked on either side of his head and held in him place lest he go wandering again, but that was an impossible thought when there was nowhere else he wanted to be. Sokka took a long breath, rich with her arousal, and kept up his attack, watching the sharp rise and fall of her chest whenever he let his tongue rest for a moment in favor of lightly trapping her clit between his teeth.

“Harder,” she mumbled, and he was happy to obey. Sokka flicked his tongue more aggressively, alternating with his teeth in response to her movements, the tightening of her hand in his hair and the way her legs squeezed at him. Every time she arched her back and rolled her hips, she seemed to grow hotter around him until every inch of her blazed under his touch. “Right—right there…”

She was sweating again, panting and writhing with each swipe of his tongue. Sokka picked up his pace to a feverish pitch, holding her legs for support as much as to keep her from snapping them shut, until the scream tearing from her throat gave over to a burst of fire that rose to the ceiling.

Azula held him there until the flames dimmed down to nothing, shivering through an aftershock when he flitted his tongue down toward her sex. She had cooled to a comfortable warmth when her legs finally relaxed, but she was so sweet that the idea of parting never took root in his mind. The only thing that finally moved him back was the low ache at the base of his cock, and once he sat up his hands fumbled with his belt to answer it.

When his fingers slipped from his belt for a second time, Azula pushed herself up and climbed into Sokka’s lap, undoing the knot in one deft motion. She didn’t seem to mind her own taste on his lips, and greedily claimed his mouth again before pushing him onto the ground to yank away his pants. Azula bit down on her lower lip once she’d tossed his pants aside and ran her hands up his legs.

“Oh no, you’re not gonna be on top here,” Sokka said as he tried to sit up. He only got as far as propping himself up on his elbows before she wrapped one hand along his cock, and suddenly deciding who was on top mattered so little compared to the way she squeezed him.

“Are you going to stop me?”

She didn’t wait for his strangled reply to climb atop him and tauntingly rock her sex along the length of his shaft. Every slow lap of her body sent a new bolt of pleasure through his whole body, but he wanted— _needed_ more. Needed her so desperately that he couldn’t think straight. Sokka grabbed Azula to pull her down against him, and she obligingly angled her hips to let him push into her.

Azula moaned through another kiss, and the only thought Sokka could grasp at as he plunged into her to the hilt was that she was far and away the warmest, most wonderful thing he had ever felt. The mounting pressure at the base of his cock flew past anything he thought possible. His hips relaxed and then snapped forward of their own accord, once, twice, too many times for him to keep up. Azula’s nails sank into his chest, raking along as she sat up again, taking back control. She whimpered each time she rolled her hips, drawing up and nearly off him before sinking back down, breaking into a graceless, needful whimper as she did. Her topknot had failed entirely, and long flows of black hair spilled over her shoulders as she rode him, clawed at him, brought one of his hands between her legs to circle her clit with his thumb. She had thoroughly taken command of their furious lovemaking, and he was almost inclined to let her keep it.

Almost.

“Still think you’re going to be on top?” Azula asked breathlessly, smirking even as she shuddered through her rhythm. She closed her eyes and leaned back, resting her hands on his legs, and Sokka took his chance.

Her confused little sound was all too satisfying when he grabbed Azula’s hips, lifted her up, and pulled her to the ground beside him. Sokka flipped her over onto her stomach and descended on her, sliding one hand under her to nudge her hips up and play at her clit. Azula’s hands clenched into fists, but relaxed as he pressed into her again, and tilted her head to let him nip at her neck.

“Yeah, I do.”

The turnabout had relieved the heavy ache between his legs somewhat, but it came back with a vengeance as Sokka thrusted into her, hitting new spots and making Azula clamp down on his cock to try and keep him in place. If she had any more smart remarks, they descended into incoherence as he bit the crook of her shoulder and they rocked against each other. He was losing control of his own pace, circling her clit with one finger, snapping his hips forward as she shuddered around him and scorched the ground with another stream of blue fire—

His last thrust pushed them both forward the smallest bit, and Azula turned back to kiss him as he came undone. Every last muscle in his body went slack as his world narrowed down to the princess underneath him, while Azula brought her legs back against him to keep him from moving. Not that he wanted to, or could ever want to. Azula squeezed at him lightly, and each time his hips jerked forward until they were both completely worn down and the only sound was their ragged breathing, their chests rising and falling in time with each other.

Slowly, reluctantly, he eased out of Azula and collapsed beside her, close enough for her to shuffle over and rest against him, one hand scratching idly down the middle of his chest. Marking him. Sokka reached over and wiped away the dirt and dust clinging to her cheek before kissing her again. For once it seemed that she wasn’t sure what to say as they laid there, and he wasn’t either, until his understanding of the world widened out from Azula and to the arena they were in. “There’s no way that _someone_ didn’t hear us,” he said.

“And? What are they going to say?”

Sokka shrugged. “I didn’t think of it like that. But we probably shouldn’t just stay here.”

“No, we shouldn’t. You still haven’t made anything for lunch yet.”

They went about the slow process of gathering up their clothes and wiping away the dirt from the ground before getting dressed. There were a few obvious singe marks on his clothes, but he would have to hope that no one asked about them. Or the scratches. Or the mess of bruises his throat and collarbone had to be. If everyone around them remained completely unobservant, they would be fine. Azula slid one arm around his as they walked back to the exit, determinedly keeping her gaze on the ground. Sokka laughed under his breath as they went to retrieve his sword.

Some restrained snickering from the guards was all they had to endure before Sokka gave them the password to open up the wall. Azula tensed beside him as the path out expanded before them, like a predator rearing to strike, and Sokka pretended not notice. She never could resist an opening she thought only she saw.

She didn’t kick his leg out from under him. She didn’t make a break for the exit. She didn’t even try to throw him to the ground. All Azula did was tug him down slightly to plant another love bite on an unmarked section of his neck.

“I think I need a bath before any food. And so do you, you’re filthy. I won’t have my guard looking so slovenly.”

“Whatever you say, princess…”

Azula clung to him as they walked out of the arena and across the palace grounds, all the way back to her apartments. Maybe guard duty wasn’t as boring as he’d first thought.


	2. Chapter 2

As impossible as she thought it was at first, Azula found that Water Tribe food was beginning to grow on her. It was an acquired taste, to be sure, and there were still some dishes that gave her pause, but for the most part she found that she didn’t mind when it came up in their rotation of meals.

To say nothing of any _other_ Water Tribe things she’d grown fond of…

Azula bit into a piece of leftover tiger seal jerky and looked up from her newspaper, to the kitchen where her guard was putting together breakfast. _Guard_. She huffed out a laugh under her breath. As if anyone still believed Sokka was only in charge of her security detail. The guards and servants were all inveterate gossips, she knew. Azula sighed and stood up, still blinking some sleep from her eyes. Well, they could gossip all they liked, what concern was it of hers? The crown princess had more important matters than to worry about whatever the help thought of the Water Tribe clothes that found their way into her laundry.

Sokka was already dressed while she was still in her night robe—he was still her guard by some technicality or other, and she had to insist on _some_ veneer of professionalism whether or not he was starting his shift from her bedroom—and relaxed as Azula eased into the firm planes of his back, solid muscle covered by the soft, clean cloth of his shirt. It smelled a bit like him, even when it was fresh from the laundry, and she took a long breath of it, the mix of light perspiration from being so far from his native climate, the brushed metals of his sword, the spices he cooked with. Her legs went a little weak at hearing the slow beat of his heart, the way it skipped when Azula put her hands on his hips. They slid upward to his sides, and he fumbled with whatever he was cooking on the stove.

“Hey,” Sokka said, his voice a low rumble against her cheek.

“Good morning. Don’t you look all prim and proper today. I like this uniform, the stitching is better than on the other ones.”

“It does look pretty good, doesn’t it?”

Azula dragged her nails back down, wrapping her hands around Sokka’s midsection until they settled below his stomach. “It looks better on my bedroom floor,” she said, and hooked her thumb into the hem of his pants. His breath was a high, sharp hiss as she undid the drawstring enough to move her hand lower.

“The burners are on, Azula…”

“I thought you liked playing with fire,” she said with false affront. Her hand trailed down a thin line of hair that flared out suddenly, trimmed neatly the way she said she had preferred it. Sokka groaned, his back stiffening as she teased him, and Azula heard the soft _click_ of him cutting the heat to the stove.

“You’re more than enough fire for me, any more burns and it’ll look like I can’t do my job.”

That was true, she wouldn’t suffer incompetence, not on any front. Azula withdrew her hand and turned Sokka around, until she could press into his chest. He had left the topmost fastening of his shirt undone, a small flash of his collarbone, enough space for her finger to find purchase.

Sokka had other ideas, though. His hands fixed firmly on the backs of her thighs before picking her up off the ground. Azula bit back a yelp, holding tight at his shoulders for balance as he turned them around again and set her on a clear section of counter. His lips pressed into the soft spot below her ear, trailing down to her throat with warm kiss after warm kiss.

“You don’t seem interested in breakfast,” he said as his hands settled on her hips. Azula could feel him tensing under her hands, the scratch of his small beard along her collarbone. She leaned toward Sokka until she could smell her shampoo in his hair. “I’m still hungry, though.”

The intent in his voice made her shiver. “What _are_ we going to do about that,” Azula mused, and wrapped one leg around his waist. Sokka’s kisses kept creeping downward, and his hands tightened on the silk of her robe. “What indeed—”

The sound of the door sliding open froze them both in place, and Azula groaned inwardly as her sister-in-law took a step into her apartments. Mai looked like her usual cheerful self while her gaze swept over the room, and somehow her frown managed to deepen when she settled on Azula and Sokka in the kitchen. Her head tilted ever so slightly. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Azula said, almost growling. “But since I doubt that’s going to make you leave…”

Sokka eased back by slow degrees, biting his tongue to make his arousal less obvious, then offered Azula his hand to help her down. She took it, no matter how she felt she didn’t need it, and hopped down from the counter. Azula kept her grip on his hand. “Give us a few minutes, would you?”

He nodded and turned toward the door, but Azula grabbed his collar and pulled him into a single bruising kiss. Sokka’s tension melted around her, and all the color had gone to his cheeks when Azula let him go with a quick pat on his rear. Mai stepped aside to let him leave and closed the door behind him.

Azula motioned to her table, and let Mai find a seat for herself while she heated her teapot in her hand. She still technically wasn’t allowed to firebend outside of the training grounds, but if anyone minded, word hadn’t gotten back to her brother about it. “Would you like some tea?”

Mai gave her an absent little nod, and Azula poured out two cups before joining her at the table. She left her own cup to cool while she fixed her hair into something approximating a topknot—Sokka usually did a better job than she could without a mirror to aid her—and then met Mai’s steady, even gaze. “You’re looking well,” Azula said. “I see you’re still avoiding any early wrinkles by not smiling.”

“It’s nice to see that doing nothing agrees with you so well.”

“Your husband is the one who made that decision…we can skip the pleasantries, I think. What brings you here to visit?” Azula asked, and sipped at her tea.

Mai was in no rush to answer her, brushing some dust from her sleeve instead of responding. Azula’s mouth twitched. She still outranked the princess consort as long as she was the heir apparent, though they could do little more than exchange verbal jabs. There was no point in giving Zuko a reason to revoke any of the privileges Sokka had championed for her. Still, she wasn’t going to be ignored. “It might look like I do nothing all day, but it’s actually quite time-consuming, so if you came to say something rather than just drink my tea and leave dust in your wake…”

“I did come to ask a question,” Mai said, twirling one lock of hair between her fingers, “or get some suspicions confirmed, but I think you and your _guard_ —”

She hung on that for a moment, as if subtlety was suddenly forbidden throughout the palace. Azula kept a straight face.

“—answered that for me already.”

Azula shrugged, but she couldn’t contain some trace of a thrill at being found out. Not that she’d tried particularly hard to hide it—the fact that he no longer spent his nights in the barracks or his office wasn’t possible to overlook, and she had let more than a few servants come through and clean while they were both still in bed. “You must not have enough to do, if chasing down rumors is how you spend your time. Is this your way of asking me to suggest a hobby?”

“I think I have a good idea of your main hobby these days. What are you doing, exactly?”

“Right now I’m drinking tea and enjoying your scintillating conversation, or did you mean in a more abstract sense? And why is it any of your business in the first place?” Azula asked. Her nails raked over the table, leaving small scratch marks in her wake. “Some people might think it’s a bit presumptuous to pretend I don’t exist for a year, only to wander back into my life just to stick your nose in my affairs.”

That didn’t get a rise out of Mai, but it didn’t irritate Azula. Instead, the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. Ty Lee would get emotional over everything and Zuko wore his heart on his sleeve—as did Sokka, though somehow it was more endearing on him than on her brother—but Mai…she and Mai could go back and forth for hours. The effort it took to actually crack her had always almost been worth the foul mood that followed. The traces of her smile faded. Poking and prodding at Mai all those times during the war was likely why, Azula supposed, she hadn’t made more of an effort to visit since. The doctors had said something about that. “Well, you came all this way, and you clearly already know,” Azula said as she rubbed at her sore fingers. “Does my brother know?”

“No, no one’s felt inclined to inform him that his friend and his sister have been carrying on like rabaroos. Which leads me back to my original question, what exactly are you doing?” Mai asked.

“I think you described it more colorfully than I could.”

“But _why_?”

Azula sighed and got up to fix her robe, then took a few idle steps around her space. Sokka had asked something similar months ago, though Azula doubted she could quell Mai’s question in quite the same way. “The war’s been over for seven years, and as you noted I don’t have much else to occupy my time, so is it so impossible to believe that we enjoy each other’s company now?”

She didn’t like the way Mai’s brow knitted up in response to that. “I can’t wrap my head around what exactly you like about him. He’s just some Water Tribe peasant…”

A flurry of sparks flew from Azula’s fists as they clenched, and Mai slipped from her seat to back up. For a moment Azula could almost feel the ground shift under her feet, as if the palace itself was yielding to her flash of anger. She let out a sharp breath and watched a puff of smoke dissipate from her mouth. _Calm_ , she told herself. _No need to do something stupid_. Azula’s hands relaxed, and she turned back to Mai. “It’s hardly the same, but his father was made the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. He’s a prince. And even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t make a difference to me,” she added, growling out the last bit harshly enough to make Mai’s eyes widen.

“Oh, this is even worse, I thought you were only using him to get whatever you want or maybe get out of here, but—you actually like him.”

Azula took a step back and leaned against her counter, at the spot where Sokka had planted her before they were so rudely interrupted. His cooking was still in the pan on the stove next to her, smelling of the spices she associated with him. The whole kitchen was one long string of associations, in truth, from the way everything was arranged to the way the lid of the icebox was the slightest bit ajar. Azula’s lips parted to start to say something, but they only slipped into a smirk. He knew how it galled her when he left the icebox lid askew, and yet on the mornings when she got to the kitchen before him, it was always set properly. A surge of warmth ran through her chest. “I don’t hate him,” Azula said, trusting that Mai would catch her meaning.

“Gods help us all…”

The ground trembled again, strongly enough that they couldn’t pass it off as nothing. Azula’s eyes narrowed. It was far too brief to be an earthquake, and aftershocks didn’t happen by themselves. Nor was the volcano the capital was set into supposed to be active ever again. An eruption didn’t feel like this, at any rate.

“Someone’s earthbending,” Mai said, her voice as flat as if she were commenting on the weather.

Azula went to the door, but it slid open before she could reach for it. She didn’t like the way Sokka had his sword halfway out of its sheath, or the frown on his face. “Stay here, all right?”

Mai nodded, but Azula defiantly folded her arms. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“I know you are,” Sokka said, and laid one light kiss on her cheek. “Stay here.”

A heavy knot formed in her stomach as she watched the door close with him on the other side. She took a step back, running through all the unpleasantly vivid possibilities in her mind as she tightened her belt. This wasn’t right. There was no way to feel any earthbending unless it was being done on the palace grounds itself, and all the earthbenders they employed had been off-duty for days. “Damn him,” she muttered. “Leaving me here like this.”

“It’s his job to keep you safe, remember?” Mai stood and went to refill her teacup. “He wouldn’t be a very good guard if he let you go off into something that could be dangerous. As much as you seem to like being next to him.”

“I know what his job is,” Azula snapped, but her heart jumped into her throat even as she thought about it. There hadn’t ever been anything for him to actually protect her against, it wasn’t silly to simply have thought of him as her companion. Apart from that sword, he didn’t act much like a guard. “I know.”

She let Mai lead her back to the table, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit down. The nervous energy cresting out from her gut wouldn’t have it. Azula paced instead, sparks and embers swirling around her hands as she made a circuit of the main room. She winced every time the ground shuddered underneath them, until finally she leaned up against a cabinet and began scratching away the raden on the front to keep her hands occupied. “Oh,” Mai said, some concern breaking through the veneer of apathy she always wore. Azula looked expectantly at her while she counted on her fingers. “It’s the eighteenth.”

“Yes, and?”

“Well…it was exactly seven years ago that you took over Ba Sing Se.”

The licking heat of the nervousness in her body froze over, hardening to a painful iciness as she rushed over to the window. She was vaguely aware of Mai urging her to stay in the middle of the room, but her pleas went unheeded. Azula could have sworn the gap between her heartbeats lengthened interminably as she looked out over the grounds, desperate for some information, anything that would be better than stewing in ignorance.

What had been a well-maintained path lined with grass was now covered in a fine layer of dirt, with earthen shards and boulders laying discarded around the garden. One of the Kyoshi Warriors landed hard on the ground and rolled twice before coming to a stop, reaching for a shredded fan before crawling from the fight with one arm twisted the wrong way. Another came running to pull her out of the way, and Azula flicked her first two fingers against her thumb, sending nervous embers whirling down to the floor. They landed harmlessly until she saw Sokka crossing swords with someone, and then it was all she could do to keep from scorching the floor and everything around her.

“Come on…”

She could see the sword forms he practiced in his movements, but faster, with more force thrown behind each thrust and parry. Finally the hilt of his jian connected with the assailant’s hand and sent their sword clattering to the ground, and Azula let out a long, full breath. She dared to feel some shred of relief, only to have it dashed when a block of hardened earth tore up Sokka’s right side and knocked him to the ground.

Azula heard her door coming off of its track and falling to the ground, but she didn’t immediately make the connection that she had torn it away. Two of the Kyoshi Warriors that had fallen back to guard her apartments leapt out of the way as sparks burst from around her fingers. She saw the lightning, felt the tiny hairs on her forearm stand on end, but only focused on making it a straight shot rather than think about how many rules she was breaking.

The assailant flew back in a blast of smoke and crumpled in a heap on the path. Azula loosed one burst of blue fire, then a second before her feet began moving of their own accord, closing the distance to her guard in long, anxious steps.

Sokka was still conscious, and watched through bleary eyes as Azula dropped to her knees beside him to look at the damage. There was a thin cut streaking from his chin to his lower lip, but that seemed to be the least of the damage. His whole right side was a long blotch of red where his clothing had been torn away, from his hip to his arm, and her attempts to move the wounds away from the ground met with a pained groan. Her hands shook terribly, and she was sure that if she had eaten something earlier, she would have lost it by now. Azula pushed a few strands of hair from his face and checked her surroundings. The Kyoshi Warriors that were still standing had their hands full restraining the assailants—the people that had attacked the palace because of what she’d done. She swallowed her guilt for the moment and picked Sokka up, trying not to think about the pain the movement was causing him.

When he drew in breath, his mouth twisted into a wince as his chest expanded against his wounds. His voice was low, more of a whisper. “This feels like it should be the other way around, don’t you think?”

“If I ever look like you do right now, you’re fired.”

“Deal,” he said weakly, and slumped against her.

⁂

Azula didn’t realize how much she would hate seeing someone else’s marks on Sokka.

The faded bruises, bites and nail marks on his chest and back—those were _her_ handiwork, her incursions onto his body. Marks of ownership, if she was feeling dramatic. And she was well aware of when she’d given him each one, what they had been doing at the time.

But suddenly the right side of his body was foreign, utterly unknown territory, scarred up and down by a cheap shot and still mostly red as the healer worked. Whatever signs of her presence that she’d left there were gone, and that was an insult to some petty part of her. The rest of her, the part that had worried herself half to sickness, couldn’t do much more than sit and watch the healer run a flow of water over Sokka’s side, her chin resting on her trembling hands. She wanted to soothe his pain, touch him in reassurance, do _something_. The short gap between where they sat was nearly intolerable.

“Will you stop pacing, Zuko?” she snapped. “You’re making everyone anxious.”

Her brother frowned, but did fall still, mostly. He folded his arms over his chest and tapped one heel against the floor in an erratic pattern. “I guess I get that way when people break into my palace and attack my friends. Look at Sokka, he’s more cut and bruise than not!”

Sokka became very interested in the floor, and under other circumstances Azula might have laughed. Zuko always said his scar didn’t affect his vision, but if he was mistaking the marks she’d left for actual injuries…well. There was no reason to put that out there and risk fouling the mood further. Azula simply followed her brother’s directions and looked at her guard, at the tone of his chest and back. As unfitting as it was for their current situation, she couldn’t help the flutter in her stomach when she and Sokka locked eyes for the briefest moment.

“Hey, give me a little credit,” Sokka said. He tried to turn toward Zuko, but the healer grabbed his shoulders and put him back in place. Sokka settled for reaching up and touching the fresh cut below his lip. “You know how it is when you fight earthbenders, you’ll always get a few scrapes.”

“That’s more than a few.” Zuko went over and patted him lightly on his uninjured shoulder. “Take some time off, however long you need. We’ll find out why this happened.”

Burning guilt lanced through Azula’s chest, but she didn’t say anything.

“Nothing’s broken, I’ll be fine in a day or two. Just have to let the healer do his job.”

Zuko nodded and strode out of the infirmary. Azula sighed, feeling her whole body go slack, and stood up to move closer to Sokka. She ran two fingers down his left arm until she found his hand, then clasped it in her own. “How are you feeling?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Still in pain?”

“It’s mostly numb now, so that’s better than feeling like I got my whole side scraped along the road.”

Azula squeezed his hand, then glowered at the healer. “Get out.”

He winced and pulled the water away before hurrying out the door. Once they were alone, Azula gently kissed Sokka’s neck and leaned against him, listening for several minutes to nothing but the sound of his breathing. When they finally eased apart again, Azula looked down at his side. The blood had mostly washed away, and in its place was fresh, pale skin, smooth and unmarred. It felt so softly fragile under her fingers compared to the rest. “No more heroics,” Azula said, and ran her thumb over the cut on his chin. It wasn’t very wide, but it looked like it would raise slightly as it healed.

“Heroics? This is my job, Azula. I’m your guard.”

“Well, maybe that’s not what I want you to be,” she said. “You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me.”

Azula clenched her jaw, then gripped Sokka’s shoulders so she could clamber into his lap. Sokka wrapped one hand around her waist in response, but looked sidelong at the door as he did. “Hey—this isn’t exactly private—”

“Don’t,” Azula whispered, resting her forehead against his. “Don’t do this again. I don’t want you to be my guard if this is how you’re going to wind up. I’ll get you fired, if that’s what it takes. Promise me you won’t do this again, Sokka.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“ _Promise me_ ,” she repeated.

Sokka leaned back and held her shoulder for balance, circling the soft base of her throat with his thumb. He was silent for a long moment, long enough for her stomach to knot itself twice over, then nodded. “I promise.”

“Good…do you know what the penalty for breaking an oath to the royal family is?”

“I think I can guess.”

Azula settled in against him again, her arms positioned carefully to keep from breaking the new skin, and eventually nudged him down onto his back. Sokka kissed her cheek and nipped at her ear a few times, but she only kept her grip as tight as she dared, resting on top of him, feeling his warmth through her chest as she listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

⁂

Rain again.

Droplets beat insistently down on the window, running in streaks that pooled at the bottom of the pane before spilling over and continuing down the outer wall. Azula watched a few small splashes hitting the railing outside before sighing and turning back to her last bite of rice. Going off to Ember Island for a few weeks had been her brother’s idea, and her first instinct had been to oppose it on principle and mention that Father had done exactly the same thing to them, but ultimately she hadn’t protested. After the sixth straight day of rain and being stuck in the renovated vacation home, though, she was beginning to regret not putting up more of a fight about it.

“The whole island’s going to flood if this keeps up much longer,” she said under her breath. Admittedly she hadn’t been in much of a mood to go to the beach, but it would have been nice to have the option. Still, it wasn’t all bad, even if she and Sokka had a slightly fuller house than she would’ve liked.

The detachment of Kyoshi Warriors that had come with them were stuck inside as well, mostly keeping to the front rooms while leaving the back wing for the princess and her…whatever they thought Sokka was to her. Azula looked out of the corner of her eye at the half dozen of them lounging around on the cushions scattered about, reading or talking and laughing, and wondered what her father or grandfather would think of the sight of Earth Kingdom soldiers there, making themselves at home on royal property. It almost amused her. They didn’t look like soldiers at the moment, lacking the usual armor and makeup that made them so difficult to tell apart. A few of them were still sporting bandages from the palace, and one of them had her forearm in a splint.

Azula took a few steps over to them, and bit back a grimace as they fell silent and her typical projection of confidence failed her. They looked up at the princess, perhaps waiting for her to start ordering them around, but Azula only rolled back and forth on her heels. “I realized that I never properly thanked you for your help at the palace. So…thank you,” she said, almost tripping over the words. She was raking against instinct to do it, working herself past the reflex to assume those beneath her ought to simply be grateful she hadn’t electrocuted them. The doctors had spent a long time helping her get past that artifact of her upbringing. “I hope you all recover quickly.”

“Well, we did get a vacation out of it,” one of them said, then waved a hand toward the rain-splattered window. “Sort of. But thanks.”

Some of the others laughed, and Azula realized it was a stab at humor. She didn’t force out a laugh—they already seemed uncomfortable enough, having her address them so casually—but she did smile and nod. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Azula started to head back to the wing she and Sokka were using, until the joking woman spoke again. “Hey, princess?”

It was a very familiar way to call to her, but Azula didn’t protest as she turned back to their group. None of them had ever really bothered to address her, going about their duties with a certain silent professionalism that she thought was better than simmering hostility. She had originally met most of them in an ambush and stolen their uniforms, after all. “Yes?”

The woman went a little red in the face, and her gaze darted around the room before finally settling somewhere on Azula’s waist. “Um, I just wanted to say that…you know, we approve. Of you and Sokka.”

Something tingled pleasantly in her chest, and Azula had to fight back the warmth in her cheeks. They really hadn’t been subtle, had they? No, of course not. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, though with that tone she knew they couldn’t possibly believe her.

They let her leave without challenging that, and Azula couldn’t help grinning to herself all the way back to the south wing. She hadn’t expected that, or even been overly concerned with getting their assent, but it was nice to have.

Sokka had pushed two low tables together to make something resembling a workbench for himself in the south wing’s main room, where he was putting an edge on an oddly-shaped Water Tribe knife. He was very focused, and Azula hesitated on the threshold to watch him work. She hadn’t asked about it, but if she rolled over one more morning to find him absent from their bed in favor of putting the finishing touches on the blade or its sheath, she would have to. The bandages on his side were visible between his pants and the hem of his shirt, and Azula forced herself to look away from them. Instead she crossed the room and opened one of the doors leading to a courtyard, humid and drenched.

That got his attention well enough. Sokka set his project aside and hopped to his feet to join her on the other side of the room. Azula leaned back at his touch, closing her eyes as his arms fastened around her. “This weather must make you feel right at home,” she said, tilting her head to let him press a kiss to her neck. The tingle in her chest rose up again, and Azula sighed in contentment.

“It doesn’t rain at the South Pole, it’s too cold for that. But I think this is as close to snow as it’ll get in the Fire Nation.”

“We have snow. In the winter. Some years. You have to go up to the mountains on the western side of Hanshu, but it’s there.”

“Yeah, that’s just like home,” Sokka said, and kissed the soft spot below her ear before letting her go. Azula followed one of his hands with her own, and held it in place before it could disappear from her shoulder. “It doesn’t look like the rain’s going to let up anytime soon, was there something you wanted to do? I’m up for anything except going back to that theater.”

“What’s wrong with the theater here…I didn’t feel much like going out, anyway. And there isn’t enough space inside to practice any kata, I thought I might read for a bit. There were a few books that we left here years ago, I never got to look at them when I was younger.”

“I think I saw books in the other room,” Sokka said, and slipped away into one of the spare rooms she hadn’t bothered to explore. Azula really didn’t care for the direction her brother had taken for the renovating, it was too closed in for her taste, but of course no one had asked her.

Rather than stand around watching the rain, she stepped over to the makeshift workbench while Sokka was still busy book-hunting and carefully picked up the knife he’d been working on. It was every bit the image of Water Tribe construction and aesthetics, carved from whalebone with everything but a small space around the cutting edge stained a pale blue. The weight was nice, with some heft but still light and balanced enough to move quickly. Azula gave it a few testing swings and found that the handle fit well in her hand, fingers rubbing on the taut fabric wrapped around it—

Something crashed in the other room, and she heard Sokka swear. The knife fell back to the workbench as Azula rushed over to the door and felt the tingle in her chest turn to ice. Some of the books she recognized from years past were still up on a high shelf, while others had fallen on or around Sokka, grumbling and coughing up dust on the floor.

Azula tossed the books aside and sat him up, waiting while he finished hacking up the dust he had disturbed. “Ah, thanks,” he mumbled, and got back to his feet. One of his hands settled over his bandaged side. “I reached up there with the wrong hand, I’ve got to remember not to do that.”

He said it so casually that it didn’t register for Azula at first, but then it struck her like a kick to the ribs. He was still injured. He was injured because of what _she_ had done and he didn’t even know it. Azula frowned, biting down on her tongue in a fruitless attempt to hold back tears, and buried her face in his shirt when her eyes burned with moisture anyway. “Whoa, hey, what’s the matter?” he asked, putting one arm around her while she gripped at his shoulders. “I don’t think I ruined any books, but we can find other copies if I did.”

“It’s not that, you dullard…you’re like this because of me,” Azula said, dimly aware that she was staining the front of his shirt. “This is my fault.”

“Well, unless you secretly learned earthbending, I have to disagree.” Sokka stroked her cheek and nudged gently until she looked up at him, where he could wipe away a few tears with his thumb. “I never thought I’d say this, but haughty is a much better look for you than crying.”

Azula huffed out an ungraceful laugh at that, but it wasn’t enough to dry her eyes. “No, they—they were trying to get to me,” she said, and her hands tightened around the fabric of his shirt in anger. “That day was exactly seven years after I took over Ba Sing Se. I guess they wanted payback.”

“Oh.”

The look on his face was unusually subtle, and Azula couldn’t read it. Her grip on his shirt relaxed, and she began trying to slip away, to offer him some space to think, to let him decide if she was worth all the risks that came along with her. But as she tried to push off from his chest, Sokka held firm and refused to let her go. “What—this is my fault!” Azula said, though she made no further effort to move away from him. “You could’ve been killed because of me!”

“You’re just as dramatic as your brother, do you know that? Do you think that bothers me? When we’ve _actually_ tried to kill each other before? Come on,” he said softly, his voice a comforting hum that worked into her cheek through his chest. “Even if you were responsible for what someone else decided to do, I don’t think this would break the top five worst things that we’ve done to each other.”

“A fair point.”

He kissed the top of her head once, twice, and she looked up to catch his lips with hers before he could do it a third time. Azula stood on her toes so she could press against his soothing warmth, and her nails began idly raking across his back, trying to add to the crisscross of lines she had already left in his skin. Sokka smiled when he pulled back from their kiss, and Azula felt herself grinning along with him, utterly without conscious thought as her mind drifted elsewhere. _I can’t wrap my head around what exactly you like about him_. She took his hand. “Come on. Bedroom.”

Sokka tried to hide a smirk. “I thought you wanted to read.”

“Well, now I have a better idea.”

Her heart skipped as she hurried him to the other end of the south wing and into the bedroom they were using. Azula slid the door shut behind them and nipped at Sokka’s throat as she snaked one hand under his shirt to pull it off. “I know this usually ends up looking more like a fight than anything, and I like that, but I want to try something different today. All right?”

“Lead the way, princess.”

Azula slowly stripped away Sokka’s clothes and brought him over to the bed, then tossed her own clothes aside so that there was no artifice or division between them. She motioned for him to lay on the bed, and then crawled in after him.

“Just relax, lie flat there. Good,” Azula said, and swung one leg over his side so she was straddling him. She wasn’t trying to make it about herself, but she couldn’t help enjoying the way Sokka was looking at her, something between reverence and hunger. That hadn’t dulled at all since they had fallen into whatever it was that they had.

She also couldn’t help feeling the way he had gotten hard underneath her, and the slightly bitter scent of his arousal sparked a reaction in her own body. It would have been so easy to rock her hips slightly and take him in, but she resisted. She wanted an answer to Mai’s question, though only for herself.

Azula could hear the way Sokka’s breath quickened underneath her, see the way his broad chest rose and fell in an unsteady cadence as her hands began exploring him. Her fingers skirted over his cheekbones, his lips, the new thin scar that led down to little strip of hair on his chin…Sokka watched her work the whole time, taking in a long breath when her thumb traced over the middle of his throat. Azula grinned at the little love bites on the side she’d left the night before, then continued.

“Taking a tour?” Sokka asked as she drew down from his shoulders and through the patch of dark hair in the middle of his chest. His hips twitched against her when her nails left thin little lines in their wake, and Azula poked at his ribcage.

“Something like that. Ah, don’t move now,” she said, even as her own arousal flared under her belly. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Since when do you lecture me about _virtue_ …”

Azula smirked and ran her hands down further, feeling greedily the hard tone of his stomach, before backing up and wrapping one hand around his cock. He was sucking air between clenched teeth, trying not to buck his hips as she rocked her wrist back and forth. Sokka’s hands grasped blindly at the sheets underneath them, trying to focus on something else, anything else, and Azula was sure if she looked over her shoulder she would see his toes curling, too. She squeezed once, and actually got a sharp moan out of him. A few beads of sweat sheened on his chest, and his wolftail had come loose from the way the back of his head was moving against the pillow. “Did we graduate from fighting to outright torture?” Sokka asked, his voice tight.

“Something tells me that you’re not hating this.”

The heavy, needful throb under her hand was answer enough to that. Azula shifted forward until she was straddling his hips again and leaned forward, until she was resting on his chest. All he had to do was rock forward the tiniest bit, but he stayed obediently still.

“I was curious, about exactly what it is about you that’s so attractive to me. But as nice as it all is, and as much as it frustrates me, I don’t have an answer. The truth is…it’s you,” Azula said, and kissed him as he pressed into her. The fullness made her whimper against him as pressure soared in her body, and the feeling of his arms closing securely around her drew out a shiver before she eased back and looked at him, at the clear light blue of his eyes. She could get lost in them, in the way he looked at her. With love. Her heart seemed to beat in time with his, steady and strong. “It’s just you.”

He kissed her then, biting gently at her lip as they worked into a rhythm. They didn’t make a fight of it _every_ time, but it still took them a minute to adjust. Sokka’s hands raced over her back, to the swell of her hips and her rear, moving her in time with his thrusts. Azula pulled her topknot loose, and her hair tumbled down around them as the familiar, wonderful pressure mounted to an unbearable heat before snapping in climax. It burned out from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers, making her back arch and her muscles tighten of their own accord, and it quickly became too much for Sokka.

He grabbed her thigh and pushed upward, finally breaking away from her lips to gasp. Azula was still working through her aftershocks when he came undone, and she could do nothing but ride it out with him until she had all but collapsed on him, kissing idly at his cheek. Their breaths fell in and out of rhythm with one another, until they had both come down from the brief spike in excitement.

“So,” Sokka said, one hand tracing along the middle of her back, “was all that stuff you said just your roundabout way of telling me you love me?”

Azula rolled her eyes and felt her face grow warm. “You’re so painfully direct sometimes,” she muttered, and rolled off of him onto the cool silk of the bedsheets. They sat up, and Azula stroked his cheek. “But yes. Against all reason and expectation and everything else, I…I love you, Sokka.”

For a moment he seemed at a loss for how to respond, and Azula squirmed slightly as her declaration hung in the air between them, making her so much more vulnerable than she ever cared to be. She started to draw her hand away from his cheek, but he took it and laced their fingers together. “I love you too, Azula. Against all reason and expectation and—”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, and they both laughed. Azula kissed him again, then slipped off the bed to gather her clothes. “I’ll be right back.”

Azula was fixing her hair when she walked back into the bedroom, where Sokka had gotten himself dressed and was sitting at the foot of the bed, focusing intently as he rested his new Water Tribe knife on top of its leather sheath.

“All right, I have to know what’s so fascinating about that thing,” Azula said, and sat down beside him. She plucked it from his hand despite his protests and twirled it between her fingers. “I mean, it’s nice, but is it really that distracting? And I’ve seen your collection, do you need another knife?”

“It’s not for me, it’s, uh—” Sokka grabbed the hilt, but didn’t pull it back, and instead kept his hand over hers— “it was for you, since you won’t let me do any actual guarding.”

“I’m not really going to fire you, you know.”

“I know, it’s not…why is this so difficult…it’s a betrothal knife,” he blurted out, and his face burned a beautiful red as they both searched for something to say. Azula’s heart kicked against her chest while they looked at each other, holding the knife between them. Slowly, without a word, Azula brushed his hand away, took the sheath, and tied it to her belt before tucking the blade away. Sokka’s eyes widened, and he let out his breath. “Then, does that mean—”

“It means yes,” Azula said, cutting him off as she jumped into his lap. They both laughed, still teeming with nervous energy as they kissed and held each other. She tapped a few times on Sokka’s shoulders. “You know that everyone’s going to call you crazy, and they already say that about me.”

“Then I’m in good company.”

Azula nuzzled into his shoulder and relished in the feeling of safety from the way he held her. “I always thought necklaces were what you did in the Water Tribe,” she said as she eased back. “It’s a nice knife, though.”

“Those are more of a North Pole thing, we’re a little more practical. But if you had your heart set on one…”

Sokka shifted his hips so he could reach into his pocket and retrieve a piece of carved red jade suspended from a black band. Words failed Azula for the second time in quick succession as she lifted the pendant so she could study the details. He had etched out a small relief in the middle of one side, a rising flame that descended into a rolling ocean wave near the bottom edge. “So this is what you kept sneaking out of bed to work on. And the knife too, aren’t you industrious.”

“Well, I like to keep my hands busy. May I?”

Azula pitched her head back to expose her throat, and shivered as Sokka—not her guard anymore, her fiancé, she thought with a bit of giddy lightheadedness—slipped the necklace into place. It hung nicely on her collarbone, cool but not cold. “Looks good,” Sokka said.

“Of course it does, it’s on me. And because you made it, I guess.”

Sokka tried to purse his lips, but he only ended up grinning. “Your humility is an inspiration…so how do you think we ought to tell your brother?”

“I’m not worried about him, it’s your sister that’s going to lose her mind.”

“Well,” Sokka said, tapping lightly on her new necklace, “we’ll figure it out. Together.”


	3. Chapter 3

By his own admission, Sokka had little in the way of comparison, but he still thought he was throwing together a rather nice Fire Nation wedding.

It wasn’t going to be a lavish affair, of course. The private, walled garden tucked into a secluded corner of the palace grounds didn’t have enough room for _lavish_. Anything larger was sure to attract attention and no end of resistance, so _subtle_ was the rule of the day. But within that mandate was plenty of latitude, and Sokka intended to make the most of it. He was only going to get married once, after all.

Azula had been remarkably indifferent to all the plans he had presented to her, so much so that he’d eventually been forced to ask if she really wanted to get married at all. After a very long afternoon, he’d gotten it out of her that she had always assumed she would have to undercut any marriage that her father arranged for her—being a willing participant in one never occurred to her, and so she’d never given it much thought. Once he was sure her cool reaction to his suggestions wasn't about him, he’d felt free to put something nice together.

Sokka struck a small bell once he’d lit incense at each of the four cardinal directions, sanctifying the space as best he could, then went to the shallow gold basin in front of the main seats to make sure he’d mixed the oils properly. According to the book he’d read, they were supposed to be a light, semi-clear brown by now. It looked right to him, but he had only descriptions to go by, and getting it wrong would mean a very painful afternoon. Beside the basin, a small flame burned in its own container, and he would simply have to hope he’d done it right.

Still, the day wasn’t wholly a nod to Fire Nation tradition. The candles arranged around the space were all ringed with water, connected by shallow channels he’d spent the night before digging out and sealing. On the walls, hanging equal with the reds and golds, were banners in blue and white invoking the blessings of northern and southern spirits, written in Water Tribe syllabics. He’d even been able to incorporate his native colors into the posts of the ritual gate set up at the entrance. The weather had precluded doing anything with ice, and he wasn’t much of a sculptor to begin with, but even without a centerpiece he was satisfied with the way he’d fused the two disparate cultures.

He smoothed out a wrinkle in his deep blue kimono and nudged some cushions into alignment with his foot. There wasn’t going to be a need for so many, but the symmetry of rows on either side of the main platform looked better than just throwing a few into place and calling the job done. Judging by the position of the sun, they had a bit more time until midday, and rather than keep fretting over the way the priest was steadily eating his way through the entire table of refreshments, Sokka wandered over to the tent set aside for his betrothed.

Azula didn’t often elect to wear any of the more formal outfits Sokka knew were in her wardrobe, but now that she’d picked one out…the train of her kimono fell to the base of her chair, and the ends of the sleeves were close by as she sat, letting one of the servants put her hair in a fancier topknot than usual. Small, ruby-tipped pieces of jewelry rested from the ends of thin gold links woven through the hair that had been pulled into place, swaying gently with each tiny motion of her head. She saw his reflection in her looking-glass as he walked up behind her, still at a loss for words. A slightly larger droplet came down from her topknot and rested just beneath her hairline, standing out against the soft white makeup that was creating a striking contrast with the black lines framing her eyes and the red stain on her lips. Below that, resting over the hollow of her throat, was the red jade pendant of her betrothal necklace, with its matching knife nestled into the obi tied around her waist.

“Maybe I should’ve gone with the gold one.”

“Not unless you want to outshine the sun,” Sokka said, and picked up her hand to lay a kiss on the back of her palm. “I think this you look perfect just like this.”

The servant sighed in relief, spared the effort of running back to fetch another heavy outfit, and stepped away to let the princess inspect her work. Sokka couldn’t find any issue with it—though perhaps he was biased. Finally Azula nodded, and her servant was able to slip out of the tent. Sokka leaned down and kissed her cheek as lightly as he could to keep from disturbing the makeup there. “Really. You’re beautiful.”

Rather than simply agree with him, Azula ran one finger into the folds of his kimono and flicked her nail against his chest. “And this looks much better than your usual guard outfit,” she said as she stood up. The multiple layers of her kimono shifted softly at the motion. “Whoever designed these clearly wasn’t planning on the brides moving much…did you have any ideas about how to tell my brother about all of this?”

“I’m still working on that.” Sokka let Azula fix his outfit while he ran through that inevitable awkwardness in his head. “Well, it’ll all be after the fact anyway, so hopefully there won’t be too much of a fight.”

“Your optimism is so adorable. I need a few more minutes here, did you make all the preparations you wanted?”

“I think I made the most of what we had available.”

He kissed her hand once more, then left her to her preparations. The door out to the palace grounds proper was opening as he checked that the gate wasn’t leaning, making him tense up, but Sokka relaxed once he saw it was only Mai. “Great, you’re right on time.”

“You really found the most distant corner of the grounds, didn’t you? I didn’t even know this garden existed,” Mai said as she pushed the door open the rest of the way. Ty Lee and Suki filed in after her, still wiping off traces of their Kyoshi Warrior face paint. Sokka blanched as they greeted him, and Mai raised an eyebrow once they walked by. “What? You asked if I could find a few witnesses, and I did.”

“My _ex_?” Sokka asked in hushed tones, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking over to where Ty Lee and Suki were standing by the seats. “You’re killing me here!”

“You try finding people willing to come to a secret wedding with barely any notice,” Mai shot back, poking him in the chest with each word for emphasis. “It’s not like people were begging to come along to this. Besides, I wouldn’t worry about her making some anguished declaration of love.”

She nodded toward them, to where Suki had slipped one hand around Ty Lee’s waist as she kissed her neck. Sokka tilted his head, then looked pointedly away when he realized what was going on and fussed with his sleeves. “Oh. So I guess all those jokes about the Kyoshi Warriors weren’t _entirely_ off-base…”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make a call about anyone’s romantic inclinations right now,” Suki said from behind him. Sokka jumped and whirled around on one heel, sputtering for some kind of response, but Suki only crossed her arms and waited for him to calm down. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Suki looked around the garden, taking in the decorations he had put up, then nodded in approval before searching for her own words. Finally she put her hands up in conciliation. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess anything up, I just had to see this for myself,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a grin. “It makes sense when you think about it, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she’s both of your types—royalty, and women who could kick your tail into next week—rolled into one. Very efficient.”

Sokka groaned and shrugged. “All right, you’ve got me there.”

“Really though, you’re happy?” she asked. Sokka looked over his shoulder at the tent, and felt himself smiling as he nodded. “Then that’s what I care about, so go and get your bride. Good to see you again.”

She went to take her seat between Mai and Ty Lee while Sokka slipped to the other side of the garden, peeking into the tent again. Azula seemed to have gotten the hang of moving around, though with how much fabric and jewelry she had hanging off of her, it must have been a challenge. Sokka took a step forward to offer her a hand. “This is coming off the minute the ceremony is over,” she grumbled.

“The whole thing? That’s a little bold, even for you.”

Azula refused to lower herself to grinning at his joke, but Sokka had long since learned that the small quirks at the corners of her mouth may as well have been a laugh when she was feeling subtle. She let him lead her out, and Sokka motioned as subtly as he could to get the priest into place when the doors rattled. Azula waited, her hand warming Sokka’s, until one of the doors opened slightly and Toph strolled in, utterly carefree, tracking dirt as she went right for the concessions and picked up the bowl of fire flakes from the middle of the table. She tapped one foot to the ground, then went over to one of the cushions behind Suki and made herself comfortable.

“Did you invite your weird soil friend?” Azula asked.

“No, Mai handled the whole guest list.”

Sokka went up to her with Azula trailing behind, but Toph didn’t seem to be a hurry to greet them or say much of anything. Ty Lee reached back to get a few fire flakes, then waved at Azula. “Hey, Toph,” Sokka said, twisting the heel of his boot to make his presence more obvious.

“Hey! You getting married or something?”

“That was the plan for today…did you swing by to tell me I’m crazy or try to get me to come to my senses?” Sokka asked. Azula’s hand tightened around his. “Ah, because I’m not crazy or anything.”

“No, I’m here for the fight.”

“What fight?” Azula asked with a step toward her. “We don’t have blood sport in the Fire Nation.”

The doors rattled once more, then flew open violently enough to hit the posts of the gate Sokka had put up. He nudged Azula behind him, and Toph pointed vaguely to where Aang was trying to keep a seething Zuko and Katara from charging in. “ _This_ fight.”

“Zuko must’ve finally put things together,” Mai said as she reached over for some fire flakes. All three of them had turned around by now, spectators for the upbraiding to come. “I’m surprised he figured it out this quickly.”

“You told us this has been going on for _months_ ,” Suki said.

“Well, that’s quick for him.”

Sokka tried to stop Katara from advancing on them like a hungry polar bear dog, but she pushed him right out of the way and threw an accusatory finger at Azula instead. “You—you—”

There was a very real fear surging through Sokka that his sister was going to lose that finger if she kept it there, but Azula only brushed it aside and smirked. “How about I help you? _Evil_? _Crazy_? No, we already used that one before you crashed the party. _Manipulative_? _Homicidal_? Stop me if you hear one that you like.”

“They all sound about right to me,” Katara hissed.

“Azula, stop insulting yourself, and Katara, stop…uh…”

Sokka’s attempt to put himself between them died a swift death as they both turned baleful glances on them, as clear an indication as he was going to get that they were going to hash this out without him. Aang lost his grip on Zuko’s belt, and Sokka felt a sharp _yank_ on his collar as the Fire Lord dragged him back. Rather than try to help, Aang went and sat beside Toph to grab some fire flakes. “Traitor,” Sokka said under his breath.

“Do you think you have any standing to be throwing that word around?”

“Uh oh.”

Zuko hauled him toward the gate, fuming enough to send smoke pluming from his mouth, and then let go of Sokka with an almost painfully warm hand. “Explain. _Now_.”

Sokka thought the scene around them was explanation enough, but he figured Zuko still had to hear it from him. He looked back at Azula, still getting her dressing down from his sister, and felt a protective tug in his chest no matter how consciously he knew she didn’t need or want his help. “I don’t know what to tell you, Zuko, I…I love her,” Sokka said, only to get a nonplussed expression from the Fire Lord.  “Believe me, I was just as freaked out when I realized it. But it’s true.”

“This is unbelievable, I asked you to guard my sister, and instead you go and seduce her!”

“You have that backward—”

The stiffness of his kimono made it difficult to pull his head back, and Zuko’s fist missed his jaw by a hair’s breadth. “Hey, come on! I’m doing the right thing here, aren’t I?” Sokka asked, jabbing one finger toward the front platform, where the priest had pulled up a cushion to watch the fighting.

“After months of dishonesty,” Zuko countered. He was still seething, but he didn’t try to throw another punch, and the smoke coming from the sides of his mouth was starting to fade.

“I think dishonest would be carrying on _without_ marrying her, if anything. Okay, yes, telling you probably would’ve been the best thing to do when it started, but there’s really no good way to bring that up, is there? ‘Oh, by the way, your sister and I are’—”

Zuko threw his hands up and shook his head vigorously. “See? Besides,” Sokka said with a nod toward the candles ringing the space, “I’m trying to do this the right way. I mean, I even went over to that creepy prison and asked your father for permission to do this.”

“Did you get it…?”

Sokka rolled his tongue between his teeth. He had never been so happy for the solid construction of Fire Nation prison cells as he’d been on that day. “I asked, that’s the important part. We’re getting sidetracked here, so let me make this as plain as I can: I love Azula, and I want to be with her. Openly, where we don’t have to edit things out when we talk to all of you. Nobody manipulated anyone, there’s not a poison in my body that I’ll only get the antidote for if I go through with this or anything like that. You’re one of my best friends, and your blessing would mean a lot to me. And Azula too, even if she probably won’t admit it.”

There was a long moment when Sokka wondered if he was going to have to dodge another punch, but Zuko only pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I guess I can’t stop you, you can just go anywhere to get married…as long as you’re both happy, I suppose. But if you hurt her, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d make me regret it before you got anywhere near me, but fair enough,” Sokka said, and offered his hand. Zuko clasped his forearm, and all the anger in his eyes began to dissolve. “Now I just have to convince Katara.”

“Good luck with that.”

“You know, for what it’s worth, I _was_ still guarding her,” Sokka said as they started back toward their sisters. “If anything, I had even more motivation—”

“Don’t push it, Sokka.”

Azula and Katara were still sniping back and forth, and Sokka doubted whether words were going to get through as quickly as he’d like. He tapped Katara’s shoulder, ducked when her hand flew back, and then motioned to the seats. “Okay, you’re obviously still furious, but…sit down for a second? Please? I can explain.”

“It had better be the best explanation I’ve ever heard,” Katara said as she took the cushion next to Aang. She shot another glare at Azula, who rolled her eyes. His promise had been a stopgap at best, and Sokka had to grasp for some way to illustrate his point. Even sitting down, flanked by the Avatar and the Fire Lord, his sister was the scariest person there. Finally Sokka reached over and took the betrothal knife from Azula’s obi.

“Hey!”

“You know how long it takes to carve one of these, right?” Sokka asked as he slid the blade from its sheath. The edge of the whalebone blade glinted in the sunlight overhead, and the handle was warm from Azula’s body heat. Katara gave him one stiff nod. “Two weeks at least, for any of you who don’t know. Plus the necklace, so you have to believe me when I say that I’ve had more than enough time to think about this. And I _still_ asked Azula to marry me. So have a little faith in me, all right? I love you, but you’re not in charge of my personal life any more than I’m in charge of yours, so you’ll have to trust me.”

“Or I could haul you back to the South Pole and let Dad and Gran Gran talk some sense into you,” Katara muttered.

Sokka sighed before an idea sparked in his head. He looked over at Azula as he handed her knife back and made his best _play along_ face, though he had no way of knowing if she understood him. “That really wouldn’t do any good,” he said as he took a step closer to Azula, “because we got married this morning with some guards we paid to be witnesses. This ceremony was just something nice to do.”

Azula’s gaze flicked toward him with the slightest quirk in her eyebrow, but she caught on. “That sounds about right,” Ty Lee said.

Toph’s mouth creased into a frown, and for a moment Sokka thought she was going to call him out, but instead she only grinned and thrust one hand toward Mai. “I knew it! Pay up, Sunshine.”

Mai somehow deepened her frown as she dropped a few coins into Toph’s outstretched hand, and Sokka breathed a sigh of relief. More than sniffing out lies, Toph loved her gambling. Everyone else was still processing his boldfaced lie, and Katara cut Aang off with her indignation. “She’s made you just as devious as her!”

“Not quite, but he’s learning,” Azula said with a grin. “Now, are you going to sit quietly, or do I have to throw you out in my wedding outfit? I’d rather not, this fabric tears if you even look at it too sharply.”

Aang put a hand on Katara’s shoulder, and she folded her arms as she looked around the garden. The effort Sokka had put into arranging everything seemed to sink in, and she looked up at her brother. Sokka gave her a little nod. “Fine.”

Toph grumbled and passed some money over to Suki as Sokka and Azula went to take their places on the platform, separated slightly by the gold basin and low, flickering flame. “Already married?” Azula asked under her breath.

“I had to say _something_.”

“No, I’m impressed,” she said, and reached over to squeeze his hand.

The priest, with Sokka’s modifications to the typical ceremony script, invoked the blessings of Fire Nation and Water Tribe spirits in equal measure, calling on them to grant felicity and good fortune to the new couple. Sokka tried to listen, but his attention kept slipping to Azula as she played with his hand or sent sidelong glances his way. Something flipped in his stomach, and he couldn’t help grinning to himself like a fool. It was fortunate that Fire Nation weddings didn’t require the couple to speak, because he doubted he could remember anything with his nerves at a feverish pitch.

Azula tapped his hand to get his attention. “Focus,” she said, and nodded subtly toward the priest. “We have to do the fire-joining now, roll your sleeve back.”

He nodded and eased the cuff of his kimono up to his elbow, tucking it over itself to keep it from slipping down prematurely. Sokka pressed his hand into the oil in the basin as Azula did the same, making sure it was entirely covered before pulling it back and hesitating near the smaller container, where the flames were burning.

“Don’t worry,” Azula said, and drew her hand over the flames. The oils ignited, spreading from her wrist to the tips of her fingers. “The only fire that’s allowed to burn you is mine.”

Sokka doubted—privately—that she could cow fire into harmlessness, but he mirrored her movements, sweeping his hand over the smaller basin until the oil on his palm caught light. He watched the fire spread, but…it wasn’t burning him. It tingled a bit as it spread and licked away at the oil, but that was all. Thankfully he had mixed it properly, and the oil was providing enough insulation to keep him from being burned. Sokka offered his upturned hand, and Azula pressed her palm down to his. Their flames mixed and mingled before subsuming one another, leading to a stronger blaze that flared up between them. He knew from his research that this was the pivotal point of the ceremony—they were married now. A bit of his breath left him at the realization.

His new wife bent the flames down to nothing, and it took all the restraint Sokka had not to reach over and pull her into a hug. They had to listen to the priest go on for a short while longer, talking in circles about their responsibilities to one another, as if he hadn’t long since been tasked with protecting her. Azula heated her hand, still clasped in his, to burn off some more of the oil while a smattering of polite applause broke through their reverie.

“Well,” Azula said as they stood and stepped down from the platform, toward their guests, “we’re married now.”

“Yeah.” Away from the sacred space of the basin and fire, Sokka was free to wrap his arm around Azula’s waist and draw her into a tight embrace. He kissed her cheek once, then nipped lightly at her ear. Her breath rolled across his cheek. “And now we have to entertain a bunch of guests when there’s nothing I want more now than to go back to your apartments and make a mess of you.”

She had several layers of her clothing to try and hug through, but he only wore the one kimono, and Azula’s nails were painfully clear as they raked down his back. “I might have to hold you to that…”

“Oh, please do.”

Sokka saw a flash of Azula’s teeth as she went back to her tent to change into something lighter, Ty Lee hurrying behind her out of reflex, leaving Sokka to play host for the rest of their last-minute guests. “Well, this is a larger crowd than we were planning on, and Toph already ate all of the fire flakes…”

“I think my tongue is numb,” Toph said.

“…but I’ll see what I can do about getting more refreshments, so just enjoy yourselves until then.”

He had never felt very comfortable asking the palace servants for anything, he always preferred to take care of things himself or let Azula do the ordering around, but he could hardly be expected to leave his own wedding. And the handful of staff who had helped him set things up didn’t seem to mind hurrying off to the kitchens at the new crown prince consort’s request. Sokka wondered how long it would take to get used to _that_ title. It was only Zuko grabbing his arm and marching him off again that broke him out of those thoughts.

“You already did the bit where you threaten me—”

“I know, this isn’t that,” Zuko said. “You’re fired.”

As competently as Sokka thought he had performed in his job, that seemed appropriate. “Yeah, fair. But just for the record, is it because of any actual issues with my work, or the…marrying your sister thing?”

His good eye twitched a little at that, and Sokka wondered how many punches he was going to have to dodge before the day was out, but Zuko only shook his head. “No, it’s that I don’t want my brother-in-law working for me. You still have to do all the protecting, though.”

“Deal.”

Azula had changed into something more functional, a simpler red kimono with more sensibly-sized sleeves, though she had kept some of the jewelry, and Sokka bit his lip when she came up to them. She pressed her back into Sokka’s chest and brought his arms around her waist, rolling her hips ever so slightly to tease him. “I hope you’re not threatening my husband, Zuko.”

“No,” Sokka said, tightening his hold on her hips to keep from keeping up with her taunting. “No, we’re okay. Right?”

Zuko nodded, if reluctantly. “Right.”

Sokka wasn’t foolish enough to think everything was forgiven after that, but it was a start. Azula rubbed small circles across the backs of his hands. “Good. I’d think you would be more upset with Mai, keeping this from you for so long.”

“Wait, Mai knew?”

The Fire Lord looked over at his wife, who was arguing with Toph over the finer points of one of their wagers. “Oops,” Azula said in the flattest voice Sokka had ever heard. Zuko hurried across the garden while Azula turned around in Sokka’s arms. “There, now I have you all to myself.”

“That was mean.”

“You sound surprised…he’ll bluster and complain for a bit, and then everything will go back to normal. Mai doesn’t suffer his brooding.”

Azula did let him go eventually, drifting among the groups of guards and servants who had arrived when word that there was free food got out. Sokka assumed she was doing much the same as him—fielding bewildered congratulations, mostly. Toph just laughed at him and the whole idea of marriage in general for several minutes, Aang tried to discreetly hand off his bison whistle in case Sokka ever needed it, and Katara explained in no uncertain terms that _he_ would have to be the one to explain everything to their father, but otherwise most people kept to congratulating him.

Everyone in the palace seemed to show up as the day wore on, and by the time the sun began to set the reception had outgrown the tiny walled garden and spilled over onto the larger grounds. It wasn’t that Sokka was totally unprepared—Zuko and Mai’s wedding had gone on for the better part of two days—but it was starting to tire him out. They hadn’t set aside more than an hour when they were only expecting a handful of guests, and now the whole royal staff and upper echelons of the government were in the throng. It was so crowded, in fact, that no one noticed when the new couple simply walked away.

⁂

“Do you think they’ve realized we’re not there by now?”

Azula sat halfway up in the canoe, looked over at the bloom of torches that had been lit after sunset near the far end of the lake, and shook her head as she settled back into her spot on Sokka’s chest. “I doubt it, they’re having fun. That’s the sign of a good party, you know. If it keeps on going after you leave.”

Then he had put on a decent party, Sokka thought. One hand skimmed the surface of the lake as they drifted, and he pressed an absent kiss to Azula’s head. “Did _you_ enjoy it, though? That’s what I care about.”

“Apart from the wardrobe, I did. Much to my own surprise.”

“Good.”

Sokka wrapped his arms around his wife and let out a long breath as he looked up at the sky. “What is it?” Azula asked.

“The sky’s different here,” Sokka said, pointing one hand vaguely upward. “The stars, I mean. I’ve never really noticed how it looks until now, but we have a whole different set at the South Pole. Maybe I can show you sometime—if you promise not to melt everything.”

Azula shuffled around in his grasp. “I’d like that. But not for a while yet, I’m sure the doctors are going to tell me I shouldn’t travel for about a year or so.”

Her voice was hesitant, unsure, and Sokka squeezed her hand. “Why not?”

“Well…I missed my blood.”

“You’re bleeding? Did I leave a rough spot somewhere in the canoe?”

Azula turned herself over so they were face to face, where Sokka could see the way she was pursing her lips. “You really are dense sometimes, do you know that?” she asked, gripping at his collar. Still, she didn’t seem cross with him, not quite. “You’re lucky you’re cute…missed my blood as in _pregnant_ , Sokka. I’m with child. All the queasiness in the mornings, my sudden aversion to your more exotic meal ideas? I put it together this morning.”

Sokka only looked at her at first, his lips parting for words that never arrived. He brushed back some of Azula’s hair instead as he tried to process what she’d told him, and she tightened her grip on his kimono. “Say _something_ , please…”

“That’s—that’s great!”

She yelped when he started peppering her with kisses, but then started returning them after the first few. Sokka hugged her as tightly as he could, and Azula didn’t seem to mind, burying her face in his shoulder as she stroked his cheek. “How come you didn’t tell me earlier?”

“You were busy putting things together all day,” Azula said simply, and he gave her an exasperated sigh in response. “Besides, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.” Sokka absently stroked her back as the news sank in, as the canoe drifted along on the artificial lake. A child who would get to grow up without the war hanging over their head, who wouldn’t have to run around and dodge the Fire Nation at every turn. He and Azula might have some explaining to do about their own relationship, but that seemed a small concern now. The initial rush of nerves gave over to a cresting wave of relief. “Yeah.”

“Now—” Azula sat herself up and ran one finger down his chest, pushing the sides of his kimono apart— “I believe you promised to, how did you put it, make a mess of me?”

Her hips rocked against his, and Sokka’s thoughts became a bit baser, though still tinged with the new information. “Should we?” he asked, grabbing at her hips to move her back and forth. Sokka could feel himself getting hard underneath her, and Azula sucked in a breath when she settled atop him. “I mean…”

“It’s not like you can get me pregnant _again_. Not for a while, anyway.” Azula tugged his obi loose to push his kimono open further. “It’ll be fine.”

Disrobing in a canoe was slow going, but they managed, somehow. Determination made any number of things possible, Sokka thought as Azula descended on him again, teasing him mercilessly with each roll of her hips. He reached up and pulled away the pin keeping her hair in place, letting it tumble down around him. “So much for me making a mess of you,” Sokka said as he laid back, looking at the smudges of lip stain Azula was leaving across his chest.

“Well, we’d end up in the lake if you were on top.” Sokka let out a long breath as Azula sat up and took him into her, and they both had to pause to shiver through the feeling of adjusting to one another. Her hands rested on his chest, and all Sokka could do was look up at her, admiringly, maybe even reverently, while they held the moment there and burned it into memory. “Though maybe we can try that too, sometime…”

Sokka mirrored each of Azula’s movements as they found a rhythm that didn’t rock the canoe too much, drawing back when she did and then crashing together again, sending ripples out in the water around them. As much as they liked to make a fight of it, it was easy to fall into something softer, to focus on providing pleasure rather than only taking it where they could. Sokka ran his hand into Azula’s hair and tugged her down, catching her lips in another kiss that she happily returned. Her nails dug into his shoulders as they moved in tandem, scratching against his skin until Sokka trembled underneath her and struggled to catch his breath. “You’re all right,” Azula said as she brought one hand up to stroke at his cheek. “You’re all right, I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, too. I think I heard a priest say something about that earlier.”

Azula huffed out a laugh and slumped down beside Sokka, nudging him over so she could lie on the blankets he’d laid out in the canoe. She was warm, both from exertion and her natural body temperature, and Sokka didn’t think to protest when she put one hand on his chest, scratching softly at one of her favorite spots. “So, are you going to tell me what all the constellations are here?”

“Later,” Azula said, and settled one leg over his. “I want your head down here with me for a while, not in the clouds.”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to drop by my [tumblr](https://fell-dragon-domain.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi!


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